Life Goes On
by ardj18
Summary: What if Ella hid when Char came to the manor? What if they never saw each other, and the curse was never broken? Life goes on. Even through the what ifs, life goes on.


**A/N: what if Ella had hidden when Char came to the manor? What if he never found her and she never broke the curse? This idea has been addresses before, but this is not one of those they live happily ever after anyway fics. Just to warn you. It is not a happy ending. I hope you enjoy it anyway. This was really sad to write, and has put me in quite a sad mood. Reviews would cheer me up greatly. Love and peace!**

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A lonely girl sits on the floor of her tiny chamber, sobs racking her thin frame, her black hair in disarray. The beautiful white gown she wears floats around her, pooling on the ground, its hem stained brown from the dirt. Her bare feet curl under her, one delicate glass slipper discarded a few feet from her.

Surrounded by the silver moonlight pouring through the small window, the girl looks completely and utterly broken.

The only one to witness her sorrow is an old frizzy haired cook kneeling on the floor beside her, holding the sobbing maiden in her arms. With a wrinkled hand, the woman smoothes the girl's hair, rocking back and forth and whispering in her ear.

"It'll be okay, Sweet. You did the right thing. Just you wait; it'll all be okay Ella."

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In a castle bedchamber, a prince sits at his desk, staring blankly out of the window. The wind howls like an ogre's screech, and he is reminded of the one he has tried so desperately to forget. In a sudden fit of rage he hurls the box on his desk across the room. When it hits the stone wall, the box tumbles to the ground, spilling its contents.

One letter. That's all he has left of her. A letter and a shoe. The letter he forgot to burn and the shoe he was never supposed to find, that had fit no one in the household he had left but an hour before. A letter and a shoe.

"Why?" Char whispers brokenly to himself, a single tear coursing down his face.

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Life goes on. Ella continues working for Mum Olga, letting herself be bossed around with only the slightest of struggles. Her resistance is broken, and all she can do is repeat over and over to herself the words she knows she must convince herself of.

_He's safe. I saved him. He's safe._

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Life goes on. Char carries on with his princely duties. One day he is summoned to the throne room where his parents are waiting. When he arrives they frown at him.

He waits for what news they will give him, distracted and indifferent. His mind is still consumed with thoughts of her: where she is, what she is doing, why she put him through this.

The words of the king bring him back to reality. "We have chosen a bride for you."

Something inside of Char reminds him that he should feel angry, but all he does is state calmly, "I have resolved never to marry."

Ignoring the glares of his parents, Char turns on his heel and leaves, the doors slamming shut behind him.

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Ella watches, hidden behind a fruit vendor's cart, as Char and his fiancée ride past in a splendid carriage. Though she has convinced herself her choices were for the best, she feels a piece of her heart break.

She wanted this. She wanted him to move on. She wanted him to live a safe, happy life. Without her. So why did she feel like her heart was shattered? Why were tears pricking her eyes?

Ella runs home, the shopping list only half finished.

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Char stands at the altar. He hears music begin to play and the doors at the back of the hall open. Through them walks his bride, looking radiant in her gown of pure, dazzling white. He forces a smile onto his face. He doesn't love her; he doesn't want to be here.

One slow step at a time, his fiancée advances down the aisle, her arm through the arm of her father. She is beaming, positively glowing. Char feels a twinge of guilt. It looks as if all this girl's dreams are coming true, and he would wish it all away.

Too soon, she is at his side and the minister is speaking. Char doesn't pay attention. There is a break in the speech, and Char realizes it is his time to respond. Looking at his wife, all he can see is Ella.

"I do."

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In time, Ella is labeled an old maid. She refuses the marriage proposals she gets, not giving the men a second thought. By the age of twenty-four, it is clear she will serve her whole life under Mum Olga, just a lowly cook's helper. Mandy tries once to convince her to marry. Surely she doesn't want to spend her life as a scullery maid.

Ella looks sadly at Mandy and gives a short reply, insisting she doesn't mind. The emotion in her eyes is so strong that Mandy never addresses the subject again.

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In time Char grows to like his wife. He doesn't love her, and he never will, but her company slowly becomes welcome to him. He can see himself ruling with her at his side. This future doesn't over joy him, but no longer does it make him despair.

As she babbles on about a ball she is planning, Char smiles and nods, not really paying attention. Every so often, he slips up in his repression of memories, and the image of his wife is replaced with that of Ella. He knows if this was Ella talking, even if just about a ball, he would be listening attentively.

Char doesn't love his wife, but he likes her well enough.

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When Ella hears about the birth of the new prince of Kyrria, she smiles sadly to herself. She thought that her heart couldn't possibly break any more than it already had, but she was wrong. Her wish has come true. Char has moved on and Prince Torrin is proof of that.

A tear drips into the corner of her smile. Surely she has no more tears left to shed over King Charmont of Kyrria. Surely they're all used up. But one more tear joins the first and she finds herself wrong.

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Years pass. Because no matter how hard you wish otherwise, life goes on. Char is widely acknowledged as the best king in the past two hundred years. Under his rule there is peace, and not even the ogres create trouble.

When he catches Torrin and Kiora sliding down the stair rails, he is reminded of the past. In a staggering wave, memories crash over him, and he reprimands his children half-heartedly, still overwhelmed by the sorrow of recollection.

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A group dressed in black stands crying in the little graveyard, raindrops falling down around them. The small crowd, consisting mainly of weary servants, watches solemnly as an old woman with frizzy grey hair steps forward and lays a bouquet of lilies on the fresh grave. Her whispered words are snatched away by the wind.

The other members of the group shuffle forward one at a time and scatter small wildflower seeds on the dirt. The seeds are watered by tears.

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Char has been in a bad mood all day. He doesn't know why, but it's as if a part of him has suddenly gone missing. Some piece of his heart disappeared. All day he is distant to his children, the four of them wondering at the change in their usually loving father.

Sitting at his desk, he has the urge to cry. He resists. He had not cried in years – not since that fateful ball. Why? Why did he want to cry?

His fist connects with the wooden planks of his desk. His frustration boils over and he slams the fist down again. Vibrations course through the wood and the object nearest the edge falls over the side.

Char whirls around when he hears the sound of glass breaking. The slipper he had kept for so long lay shattered on the floor. Ella's slipper. It lay in a million pieces, a reflection of Char's heart.

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Mandy sorts through the old dusty trunk, all that was left of the girl she had loved as a daughter. Reaching the bottom, there is only one thing remaining. She pulls out a bundle of letters. The cook instantly recognizes Ella's handwriting. All of these unsent letters were addressed to one person.

Making a decision, Mandy stuffs the papers in the pocket of her apron. It is time these letters are sent.

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When Char finishes the last of the letters, he is unsure how he feels. So many emotions swirl through his head: love, grief, sorrow, anger, understanding, gratitude, guilt, admiration, and heartbreak. She loved him. She had loved him until her dying day. She had sacrificed everything to save him. He felt rage return to him as he reads of the atrocious crimes his love had suffered, even if they were years past.

Love: She loved him. He loved her so much.

Grief: She was gone.

Sorrow: Their love had never worked out, and now it never would.

Anger: How could such a person be forced to endure so much?

Understanding: He knew why she had done what she had. He knew, and he forgave her memory.

Gratitude: He would never in a million years be able to thank her enough.

Guilt: He had hurt her, even if unintentionally.

Admiration: She truly had been the bravest person he ever knew.

Heartbreak: Char cried for the first time in so many years. Char cried for Ella.


End file.
